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ARMS AND THE MAN 

A METRICAL ADDRESS, 



RECITED ON THE 



ONE HUNDRETH ANNIVERSARY 

(OCTOBER 19th, 1881,) 
OP THE 

SORREppF LOp COpALLIS 

AT YORKTOWN 



ON INVITATION OF JOINT COMMITTEE OF BOTn HOUSES 
OF CONGRESS, 



BY JAMES BARRON HOPE. 

OF NORFOLK, VIRGINIA. 



NORFOLK, VA : 
Landmark Publishing Company, 

1882. 






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CORRESPONDENCE, 



Washington, D. C., December 16, 1880. 

Sik : — On the 19th of October, 1881, Congress will celebrate the 
Centennial Anniversary of the Surrender of Lord Cornwallis at 
Yorktown, and will lay the corner-stone of a monument to be erected 
to mark the spot cf this decisive tattle. It is especially desired that 
some gifted son of Virginia should pronounce a poem on that occa- 
sion, and we would respectfully invite you to perform that service, 
assuring you that we shall feel under great obligations to you for a 
favorable reply. 

We have the honor to be 

Eespectfully your obedient servants, 

GEO. B. LOEING, ~) Committee 
FEANCIS KEENAN, 
JNO. GOODE, 

E. H. EOLLINS, and 

H. B. ANTHONY, Poem. 

James Barron Hope, Esq., Norfolk, Va. 



c 



on 

Oration 



J 



No. 59 Feeemason Steeet, ) 

Nokfolk, Va., December 17, 1880. J 

Gentlemen : — I have the Lor or to acknowledge the receipt of 
your communication of the 16th of December, 1880, and with no 
little trepidation and distrust of my humble powers, I beg leave to 
say that I will endeavcr to the best cf my ability to discharge the 
high trust it has been ycur pleasure to confer upon 
Your very obedient servant, 

JAMES BAEEON HOPE. 
To Mon s. Loring, Ktrnan, Gocde, Rollins and Anthony, Com- 
mittee of the House and Senate. 



b CORRESPONDENCE. 

Yobktown Centennial Commission, ) 

Washington, D. C, October 31, 1881.) 

Deae Sis : — I have the honor to inclose herewith a copy of a 

resolution adopted by the Yorktown Congressional Commission at a 

meeting held on the 25th instant. 

Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

JNO. S. TUCKER, Secretary. 
Captain James Barron Hope. 



Yobktown Centennial Commission, ) 

Washtngtown, D. C, October 25, 1881.]" 

At a meeting of the Joint Congressional Commission, charged 
with the conduct of the Yorktown Centennial, held this day at the 
Capitol in Washington, it was voted, "That this Commission tender 
its thanks to Captain James Barron Hope for the very eloquent and 
appropriate Centennial Poem, delivered by him in response to its 
invitation at Yorktown on the 19th of October, 1881. 

"That Captain Hope be requested to furnish a copy of his Poem 
to the Secretary of the Commission, in order that it may be trans- 
mitted to Congress and published with the report of. the Com- 
mission. JOHN W. JOHNSTON, C/iairman. 
Attest : 

JOHN S. TUCKER, Secretary. 



59 Freemason Steeet, ) 

Nokfolk, Va., November 10, 1881.) 

Deae See : — In compliance with the request of the Committee I 
forward to-day the MS. of my Poem, and in so doing beg you to re- 
turn my thanks to the Committee for the kind manner in which they 
have been pleased to recognize the poor services of 
Your friend and servant, 

JAMES BARRON HOPE. 
Captain John S. Tucker, Secretary to the Centennial Committee. 
Senate Chamber, Washington, D. C. 



PREFACE. 



In submitting this performance to the public, I beg 

leave to remind those who may do me the honor to 
read it, that, it is called "A Metrical Address ;" and 
to say to them that this title \vas deliberately adopted, 
in order to suggest the theory under which it was 
constructed. 

In few words, it was composed to he spoken, and 
for immediate effect, before a great assembly of the 
people, as well as the illustrious company of fereign 
(•■nests and native dignitaries who adorned the occa- 
sion. 

The task was executed under circumstances ol no 
little delicacy, and if the public will he good enough 
to hear these tacts in mind, the " Yorktown Centen- 
nial Ode," as it has been called, may, perhaps, be 
better understood, and less liable to the animadver- 
sions of the injudicious critic" than it would 
without a word ot explanation from the reader's \ 
obedient servant, 

THE AUTHOR, 
Norfolk, Va., November Wth, i 



ARMS AND THE MAN. 



A METRICAL ADDEESS, 



RECITED ON THE ONE HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE SURRENDER 
OF LORD CORNWALLIS AT YOEKTOWN ON INVITATION OF A JOINT 
COMMITTEE OF THE SENATE AND HOUSE OF THE UNITED STATES 
CONGRESS. 



PROLOGUE. 

Full-burnished through the long-revolving years 
The ploughshare of a Century to-day 
Runs peaceful furrows where a crop of Spears 
Once stood in War's array. 

And we, like those who on the Trojan plain 
See hoary secrets wrenched from upturned sods ;- 
Who, in their fancy, hear resound again 
The battle-cry of Gods ; — 

We now, — this splendid scene before us spread 
Where Freedom's full hexameter began — 
Restore our Epic, which the Nations read 
As far its thunders ran. 



10 , PROLOGUE. 

Here visions throng on People and on Bard, 
Ranks all a-glitter in battalions massed 
And closed around as like a plum-ed guard, 
They lead us down the Past. 

I see great Shapes in vague confusion march 
Like giant shadows, moving vast and slow, 
Beneath some torch-lit temple's mighty arch 
Where long processions go. 

I see these Shapes before me, all unfold, 
But ne'er can fix them on the lofty wall, 
IsTor tell them, save as she of En-dor told 
"What she beheld to Saul. 

THE DEAD STATESMAN. 

I see his Shape who should have led these ranks- 
Garfield I see whose presence had evoked 
The stormy rapture of a Nation's thanks — 
His chariot stands unyoked ! 



PROLOGUE. 11 

Unyoked and empty, and the Charioteer 

To Fame's expanded arms has headlong rushed 

Ending the glories of a grand career, 

While all the world stood hushed. 



The thunder of his wheels is done, but he 
Sustained by patience, fortitude, and grace — 
A Christian Hero — from the struggle free — 
lias won the Christian's race ! 



His wheel-tracks stop not in the Valley cold 
But upward lead, and on, and up, and higher, 
Till Hope can realize and Faith behold 
His chariot mount in fire ! 



Therefore, my Countrymen, lift up your hearts ! 
Therefore, my Countrymen, be not cast down ! 
He lives with those who well have done their parts, 
And God bestowed his crown ! 



12 PKOLOGUE. 

And yet another form to-day I miss ; — 
Grigsby the scholar, good, and pure, and wise, 
"Who now, perchance, from scenes of perfect bliss 
Looks down with tender eyes. 



Where his great friend, through lite, great Win- 

throp stands, 
Winthrop, whose gift, in life's departing hours, 
Went to the dying Old Virginian's hands 
Who died amid those flowers.* 



Prayers change to blooms, the ancient Rabbins 

taught ; 
So his, then, seemed to blossom forth and glow, 
As if his supplicating soul had brought 
Sandalphon down below. 



♦Hugh Blair Grigsby, L.L.D., Clianceilorof William and Mary Col lego, and 
President of the Virginia Historical Society, Scholar and Historian, died ou 
the day on which he received a gift of flowers from his life-long friend, Mr. 
Winthrop. and these literally gladdened the dying eyes of the noble gentleman 
whose loss will long be deplored by all who knew him. whether they live in 
Virginia or Massachusetts. 



THE COLONIES. • 13 

But, happily, that Winthrop stood to-day, 
The patriot, scholar, orator, and sage, 
To tell the meaning of this grand array 
And vindicate an Age. 

That Era's life, and meaning his to teach, 
To him the parchments, but the shell to me, 
His voice the voice of billows on the beach 
Wherein we heard the sea. 

My voice the voice of some sequestered stream 
Which only boasts, as on its waters glide, 
That, here and there, it shows a broken gleam 
Of pictures on its tide. 

II. 

THE COLONIES. 

The fountain of our story spreads no clouds 
Of mist above it rich in varied glows, 
None paint us Gods and Goddesses in crowds 
Where some Scamander flows. 



14 THE COLONIES. 

The tale of Jamestown, which I need not gild, 
With that of Plymouth, by the World is seen, 
But none, in visions, fancifully build 
Olympus in between. 



At Jamestown stood the Saxon's home and graves, 
There Britain's spray broke on the native rock, 
There rose the English tide with crested waves 
And overwhelming; shock. ' 



Virginia thence, stirred by a grand unrest, 
Swept o'er the waters, scaled the mountain's crag, 
Hewed out a more than Roman roadway West 
And planted there her flag. 



Tier fortune was forewritten even then — 
That fortune in the coming years to be 
" Mother of States and unpolluted men," 
And nurse of Liberty. 



THE COLONIES. 15 

Then 'twas our coast all bore Virginia's name ; 
Xext North Virginia took its separate place, 
And grew by slow degrees in wealth and fame 
And Freedom's special grace. 

THE NEW ENGLAND GROUP. 

At Plymouth Rock a handful of brave sou*ls, 
Full-armed in faith, erected home and shrine, 
And flourished where the wild Atlantic rolls 
Its pyramids of brine. 

There rose a manly race austere and strong, 
On whom no lessons of their day were lost, 
Earnest as some conventicle's deep song, 
And keen as their own frost. 

But that shrewd frost became a friend to those 
Who fronted there the Ice-King's bitter storm, 
For see we not that underneath the snows 
The growing wheat keeps warm ? 



16 THE COLONIES. 

Soft ease and silken opulence they spurned ; 
From sands of silver, and from emerald boughs 
With golden ingots laden full, they turned 
Like Pilgrims under vows. 



For them no tropic seas, no slumbrous calms, 
No rich abundance generously unrolled : 
In place of Cromwell's proffered flow'rs and palms 
They chose the long-drawn cold. 



The more it blew, the more they faced the gale ; 
The more it snowed, the more they would not freeze ; 
And when crops failed on sterile hill and vale — 
They went to reap the seas ! 



Far North, through wild and stormy brine they ran, 
With hands a-cold plucked Winter by the locks ! 
Masterful mastered great Leviathan 

And drove the foam as flocks ! 



THE COLONIES. 17 

Next in their order came the Middle Group, 
Perchance less hardy, but as brave they grew, — 
Grew straight and tall with not a bend, or stoop — 
Heart-timber through and through ! 



Midway between the ardent heat and cold 
They spread abroad, and by a homely spell, 
The iron of their axes changed to gold 
As fast the forests fell ! 



Doing the things they found to do, we see 
That thus they drew a mighty empire's charts, 
And, working for the present, took in fee 
The future for their marts ! 



And there unchallenged may the boast be made, 
Although they do not hold his sacred dust, 
That Penn, the Founder, never once betrayed 
The simple Indian's trust. 



18 THE COLONIES. 

To them the genius which linked Silver Lakes 
With the blue Ocean and the outer World, 
And the fair banner, which their commerce shakes, 
Wise Clinton's hand unfurled. 



THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

Then sweeping down below Virginia's Capes, 

From Chesapeake to where Savannah flows, 

We find the settlers laughing 'mid their grapes 
And ignorant of snows. 



The fragrant uppowock, and golden corn 
Spread far a-field by river and lagoon, 
And all the months poured out from Plenty's Horn 
Were opulent as June. 

Yet, they had tragedies all dark and fell ! 
Lone Roanoke Island rises on the view, 
And this Peninsula its tale could tell 
Of Opecancanough ! 



THE COLONIES. 19 

But, when the Ocean thunders on the shore 
Its waves, though broken, overflow the beach; 
So here our Fathers on and onward bore 
"With English laws and speech. 



Kind skies above them, underfoot rich soils; 
Silence and Savage at their presence fled ; 
This Giant's Causeway, sacred through their toils, 
Resounded at their tread. 



With ardent hearts, and ever-open hands, 
Candid and honest, brave and proud they grew, 
Their lives and habits colored by fair lands 
As skies give waters hue. 



The race in semi-Feudal State appears — ■ 
Their knightly figures glow in tender mist, 
"With ghostly pennons flung from ghostly spears 
And ghostly hawks on wrist. 



20 THE COLONIES. 

By enterprise and high adventure stirred, 
From rude lunette and sentry-guarded croft 
They hawked at Empire, and, as on they spurred. 
Fate's falcon soared aloft ! 

Fate's falcon soared aloft full strong and free, 
With blood on talons, plumage, beak, and breast ! 
Her shadow like a storm-shade on thesea 
Far-sailing down the West ! 

Swift hoofs clang out behind that Falcon's flights — 
Hoofs shod with Golden Horse Shoes catch the eye ! 
And as they ring, we see the Forest-Knights — 
The Cavaliers ride by ! 

THE OLD DOMINION. ' 

Midway between the orange and the snows 
As some fair planet rounds up from the sea, 
Eldest of all, the Central Power arose 
In vague immensity. 



THE OAKS AND THE TEMPEST. 21 

She stretched from Seas in sun to Lakes in Shade 
O'erstepped swift Rio JEscondido's stream — 
Her bounds expressed, as by the Tudor made, 
An Alexander's dream. 

And liberal Stuart granted broad and free 
Bound'ries which still the annalist may boast — 
Limits which ran "throughout from sea to sea," 
And far along the coast ! 

A mighty shaft through Raleigh's fingers slipped, 
Smith shot it, and— a Continent awoke ! 
For that great arrow with an acorn tipped, 
Planted an English Oak ! 

in. 

THE OAKS AND THE TEMPEST. 

Oaks multiplied apace, and o'er the seas 
Big rumors went in many a winding ring; 
And stories fabulous on every breeze 
Swept to a distant King. 



22 THE OAKS AND THE TEMPEST. 

Full many a tale of wild romance, and myth, 
Tn large hyperbole the Kew World told, 
And down from days of Ealeigh ani of Smith 
The Colonies meant gold. 



Not from Banchoonan's mines came forth the ore, 
But from the waters, and the woods, and fields, 
Paid for in blood, but bringing more and more 
The wealth that labor yields. 



Then, seeing this, that King bc}*ond the sea, 
TheJ^.5 divinum filling all his soul, 
Bethought him that he held these lands in fee 
And absolute control. 



When this high claim in action was displayed, 

With one accord the young Plantations spoke, 

And told him, English-like, they were not made 

To plough with such a yoke. 



THE OAKS AND THE TEMPEST. 23 

Tims met, not his to falter, or to flag, 
A sudden fury seized the Royal breast — 
Promethius bound upon a Scythian crag 
His policy expressed. 



And, so, he ordered in those stormy hours 
His adamantine chains for one and all, [Powers 

Brute "Force" and soulless "Strength" the only 
On which he chose to call. 



Great men withstood him many a weary day ; 
In Press and Parliament lull well they strove 
But all in vain, for he was bound to play 
A travesty on Jove ! 



Then flamed the crater ! And the flame took wing ; 
Furious and far the lava blazed around, 
Until at last, on this same spot that King 
His Herculanenm found ! 



24 THE EMBATTLED COLONIES. 

Breed's Hill became Vesuvius, and its stream 
Rushed forth through years, a God-directed tide 
To light two Worlds and realize the dream 
For which brave Warren died. 

IV. 

THE EMBATTLED COLONIES. 

Before this though the present hour recedes, 
As from the beach a billow backward rolls, 
And the great past, rich in heroic deeds 
Illuminates our souls ! 

Stern Massachusetts Bay uplifts her form, 
Boston the tale of Lexington repeats, 
With breast unarm ored she confronts the storm— 
aSTew England England meets. 

I see the Middle Group by Fortune made 
The bloody Flanders of the Northern Coast, 
And, in a varying play of light and shade, 
Plost thundering fall on host. 



THE EMBATTLED COLONIES. 25 

T see the Carolinas, Georgia, mowed 
By War the Reaper, and grim Ruin stalk 
O'er wasted fields : — but Guilford paved the way 
That led to this same York. 



Here, too, Virginia in the vision comes — ■ 
Full-bent to crown the battle's closing arch, 
Her pulses trumpets and her heartthrobs drums. 
To animate her march. 



As Pocahontas, in a by-gone time, 
Leaped forth the wrath of Powhatan to brave, 
Virginia came, and here she stood sublime 
To perish, or to save. 



I see her interposing now her frame 
Between her sisters and the alien bands, 
And taking both of Freedom and of Fame 
Full seisin with her hands. 



26 WELCOME TO FRANCE. 

V. 

WELCOME TO FRANCE. 

But, in that fiery zone 
She uprjseth not alone, 
Over all the bloody fields 
Glitter Amazonian shields ; 
While through the mists of years 
Another form appears, 
And as I bow my head 
Already yon have said : — 

'Tis France ! 
Welcome to France ! 
From sea to sea, 
With heart and hand ! 
Welcome to all within the land — 

Thrice welcome let her be ! 

And to France 
The Union here to-day 

(lives the right of this array. 



WELCOME TO FRANCE. 27 

And folds her to her breast 

As the friend that she loves host. 

Yes to France. 
The proud Ruler of the West 
Bows her sun-illumined crest, 

Grave and slow, 
In a passion of fond memories of 

One hundred years ago ! 

France's colors wave again 
High above this tented plain, 
Stream and flaunt, and blaze and shine, 
O'er the banner-painted brine, 

Float and flow ! 
And the brazen trumpets blow 
While upon her serried lines, 
Full the light of Freedom shines 

In a broad, effulgent glow. 

And here this day I see 
The fairest dream that ever yet 

Was dreamt by History ! 



ZQ WELCOME TO FRANCE. 

As in cadence, and in time, 

To the martial throb and rhyme 

Of her bugles and her drums 

Forth a stately vision comes- 
Comes majestically slow — 
Comes a fair and stately vision of 

One hundred years ae;o ! 



Welcome to France ! 
From sea to sea, 
With heart and hand ! 
Welcome to all within the land ! 
Thrice welcome let her be ! 
Of Freedom's Guild made free ! 
Welcome ! 

Thrice Welcome ! 

Welcome let her be ! 



And as in days of old 
Walter Raleigh did unfold 



THE ALLIES AT YORKTOWN. 

His gay cloak, with all its hems 
Wrought in braided gold and gems, 
That his Queen might passing tread 
On the sumptuous cloth outspread, 
And step on the shining fold 
Or fair samnite rich in gold 

So for France — 

Splendid, grand, majestic France ! — 
May Fortune down her mantle throw 

To mend the way that she may go ! 

May Glory leap before to reap — 
Up to the shoulders turned her sleeves — 

And Fame behind follow to bind 
Unnumbered honors in unnumbered sheaves ! 
And may that mantle forever be 
Under thy footfall, oh France the Free ! 

Forever and forever ! 

VI. 

THE ALLIES AT YORKTOWN. 
And here France came one hundred years ago ! 
Red, russet, purple glowed upon the trees, 



30 THE ALLIES AT YORKTOWN. 

And sunset glories deepened in their glow 
Along the painted sea9. 



A wealth of color blazed on land and wave, 
Topas, and gold, and crimson met the eye — 
October hailed the ships which came to save 
With banners in the sky. 



DeBarras swept down from the .Northern coast, 
DeGrasse, foam-driving, came with favoring breeze, 
And here surprised the proud, marauding host 
Like spectres of the seas. 



Then was no time for such a boastful strain 
As Campbell sang o'er Baltic's bloody tide, 
Nor did Britannia dominate the main 
In customary pride. 



THE RAVAGES OF WAR. 31 

France closed this river, and France ruled yon sea, 
Held all our waters in triumphant state, 
Her sails foretelling what was soon to he 
Like Ministers of Fate. 

And when the Union chants her proudest Lay 
DeGrasse is often on her tuneful lips, 
And his achievement challenges to-day 
Some Homer of the ships. 

So, when this spot its monument shall crown 
His name upon its base two Worlds shall see, 
With a fair wind his story shall sail down 
Through Ages yet to be. 

VII. 

THE RAVAGES OF WAR. 
This on the water : on the land a scene 
Whose Epic scope is far beyond my power, 
For on this spot a People's fate hath been 
Decided in an hour. 



32 THE RAVAGES OF WAR. 

Long was the conflict waged through weary years, 
Counted from when the sturdy formers fell : 
Hopes crucified, red trenches, bitter tears. 
Made Man another hell"! 



See pallid women girt in woe and weeds ! 
See little children gaunt for lack of food ! 
Behold the catalogue of War's black deeds 
Where evil stands for good ! 



See slaughtered cattle, never more to roam, 
Rot in the fields, while chimneys tall and bare 
Tell in dumb pathos how some quiet home 
Lit up the midnight air ! 



See that burnt crop, yon chokcd-up sylvan well, 
This yeoman slain yecorven in the sun ! 
My God ! shreds of a woman's dress to tell 
Why murder there was done ! 



THE LINES AROUND YORKTOWN. 33 

Such tilings as these gave edge to all the blows 
Our fathers struck on this historic sod, 
Feet, hands, and faces turned toward their foes — 
Their valiant hearts to God. 

VIII. 

THE LINES AROUND YORKTOWN. 
Troops late by Williamsburg's brave palace walls, 
With trump and drum had marched down Glo'ster 

street, 
And some with throb of oars, and loud sea-calls 
Had landed from the fleet. 

And well our leader had befooled his foes — 
Left them like archers blundering in the dark 
To draw against the empty space their bows 
While here was their true mark. 

Brave Lincoln on the right with kindling eye 
Smiles 'mid the cares of grave command immersed. 



34 THE LINES AROUND YORKTOWN. 

To see dramatic retribution nigli 

And Charleston's fate reversed ! 

The Light Troops stood upon the curved right flank, 
New Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay were there, 
Connecticut marched with them, rank on rank. 
And gallant Delaware. 

There, too, Virginia's sturdy yeomen stood, 
Led on by Nelson of the open hand, 
As thick and stubborn as a living wood 
In some enchanted land. 

Next came the steady Continental Line, 
Rhode Island, and New Jersey, breast to breast, 
Ready to tread the hot and smoking wine 
From War's red clusters pressed. 

New Y®rk and Pennsylvania on these plains 
Closed boldly in on the embattled town, 



THE FRENCH IN THE TRENCHES. 

Nor feared they threatened penalties and pains 
Of Parliament, or Crown. 

And Maryland, the gay and gallant came, 
As always ready for the battle's brunt ; 
And here again Virginia faced the flame 
Along the deadly front. 

IX. 

THE FRENCH IN THE TRENCHES. 

And as the allied hosts advance 
All the left wing is given to France, 

Is given to France and — Fame ! 
Yes, these together always ride 
The Dioscouroi of the tide 

Where War plays out the game ! 
And that broad front 'tis her's to hold 
With hand of iron, heart of gold 

And helmet plumed with flame. 
Across the river* broad she sends 
DeChoisy and Lauzun where ends 



36 NELSON AND THE GUNNERS. 

The leaguer far and wide, 
While Weedon seconds as he may 
The gallant Frenchmen in array 

Upon the Gloucester side. 

As waves hurled on a stranded keel 
Make all the oaken timbers reel 

With many a pond'rous blow, 
So day by day, and night by night 
The French like billows foaming white 

Thunder against the foe. 

X. 

NELSON AND THE GUNNERS, 
O'er town, and works, and waves amain 
Far fell grim Ruin's furious rain, 

O'er parapet and mast, 
And riding on the thunder-swell 
Far flew the shot, far flew the shell 

Eed Havoc on the blast ! 
Then as the flashing cannon sowed 



THE BELEAGUERED TOWN. M7 

Their iron crop brave kelson rode, 

His bridle bit all foam, 
Up to the gunners, and said he : 
"Batter yon mansion down for me" — 

"Basement, and walls, and dome!" 
And better to sharpen those gunners' wits, 
"Five guineas," he cried, "for each shot that hits!" — 

That mansion was his home I 

XL 

THE BELEAGUERED TOWN. 

Behind the town the sun sinks down 
Gilding the vane upon the spire, 

While many a wall reels to its fall 
Beneath the fell artillery fire. 



As sinks that sun mortar and gun 
Like living things leap grim and hot, 

And far and wide across the tide 
Spray-furrows show the flying shot. 



THE BELEAGUERED TOWN. 

White smoke in clouds yon earthwork shrouds 
Where, steeped in battle to the lips, 

The French amain pour fiery rain 

On town, and walls, and English ships. 



That deadly sleet smites lines and fleet, 
As closes in the Autumn night, 

And Aboville from head to heel 

Thrills with the battles' wild delight. 



At every flash oak timbers crash — 
A sudden glare yon frigate dyes ! 

Then flames up-gush, and roar, and rush, 
From deck to where her pennon flies ! 



Those flames on high crimson the sky 
And paint their signals overhead, 

And every fold of smoke is rolled 
And woven in Plutonian red. 



THE BELEAGUERED TOWN. 39 

All radiant now taffril and prow, 

And hull, and cordage, beams and spars, 

Thus lit she sails on fiery gales 

To purple seas where float the stars. 

Ages ago just such a glow 
Woke Agamemnon's house to joy, 

Its red and gold to Argos told 
The long-expected fate of Troy. 

So, on these heights that flame delights 
The Allies thundering at the wall, 

Forewrit they see the land set free 
And Albion's short-lived Ilium fall ! 

Then as the Lilies turn to red 
Dipped in the battles' wine 
Another picture is outspread 
"Where still the figures shine — 
The picture of a deadly fray 
Worthy the pencil of Vernet ! 



40 STORMING THE REDOUBTS. 

XII. 

STORMING THE REDOUBTS. 

On the night air there floating comes, hoarse, war- 
like, low and deep, 

A sound as tho' the dreaming drums were talking in 
their sleep. 

"Fall in! Fall in !" The stormers form, in silence, 

stern and grim, 
Each heart full-beating out the time to Freedom's 

battle hymn. — 

"Charge ! en Avant /" — The word goes forth and 

forth the stormers go, 
Each column like a mighty shaft shot from a mighty 

bow. 

And tumult rose upon the night like sound of 

roaring seas, 
Mars drank of the Horn of Ulphus and he drained 

it to the lees ! 



STORMING THE REDOUBTS. 41 

Now by fair Freedom's splendid dreams ! it was a 

gallant sight 
To see the blows against the foes well struck that 

Autumn night ! 



Gimat, and Fish, and Hamilton, and Laurens 

pressed the foe, 
And Olney — brave Rhode Islander ! — was there, 

alas ! laid low. 



Viominil, and Nballies, and Daraas, stout and brave, 
Broke o'er the English right redoubt a steel-enerested 
wave. 



St. Simon from his sick couch rose wooed by the 

battles charms 

And like a knight of old romance went to the shock 

of arms. 
G 



42 STORMING THE REDOUBTS. 

[But they who bore the muskets, who went charging 

thro' the flame, 
Deserve far more than ever will be given them by 

Fame — 



Then let us pour libations out ! — full freely let them 

flow 
For the men who bore the muskets here a century 

ago !] 



And, then, the columns won the works, and then 
uprose the cheers 

That have lasted us and ours for a good one hun- 
dred years ! 



And there were those amid the French filled with a 

rapture stern 
And long the cry resounded : "Live the Regiment 

of Auverne !" 



STORMING THE REDOUBTS. 43 

Long live the Gallic Army and long live splendid 

France 
The Power that gives to History the beauty ot 

Romance ! 



Upon our right commanded one dearer by far than 

all, 
The hero who first came to us and came without a 

call ; 



Whose name with that of his leader's all histories 

entwine, 
The one as is the mighty oak, the other as the vine ; 



The one the staff the other the great banner on its 

lance — 
Now, need I name the dearest name of all the names 

of France ? 



44 STORMING THE REDOUBTS. 

Oh, Marquis brave ! Upon this shaft, deep-cut thy 

cherished name 
Twin Old Mortalities shall find — fond Gratitude and 

Fame ! 

THE TWO LEADERS. 

Two chieftains watch the battle's tide and listen as 

it rolls 
And only Heaven above can tell the tumult of their 

souls ! 

Cornwallis saw the British power struck down by 

one fell blow, 
A Gallic spearhead on the lance that laid the Lion 

low. 

But the Father of his Country saw the future all 

unrolled 
Independence blazed before him written down in 

text of gold, 



STORMING THE REDOUBTS. 45 

Like the Hebrew, on the mountain, looking forward 

then he saw 
The Promised Land of Freedom blooming under 

Freedom's law ; 



Saw a great Republic spurring in the lists where 

Nations ride 
The peer of any Power in her majesty and pride ; 



Saw that »young Republic gazing through her hel- 
mets gilded bars 

Toward the West all luminous with th' light of 
comiuu' stars : 



From Atlantic to Pacific saw her banners all un- 

furled 
Heard sonorous trumpets blowing bless-ecl Peace 

with all the World ! 



46 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 

Roused from this glorious vision, with succcess 
within his reach, 

In few and simple words he made this long-resound- 
ing speech : 

"The work is done, and well done:" thus spake 

he on this sod, 
In accents calm and measured as the accents of a 

God. 

» God said I ? Yes, his image rises on the raptured 
sight 
Like Baldur, the fair and blameless, the Goth's God 
of the Light ! 

XIII. ' 

THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 
As some spent gladiator, struck by Death 
Whose reeling vision scarce a foe defines, 
For one last effort gathers all his breath, 
England draws in her lines. 



THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 47 

Her blood-rod flag floats out full fair, but flows 
O'er crumbling bastions, in fictitious state : , 
Who stands a siege Cornwall is full well knows, 
Plays at a game with Fate. 



Siege means surrender at the bitter end, 
From Ilium downward such the sword-made rule. 
With few exceptions, few indeed amend 
This law in any school ! 



The student who for these has ever sought 
'Mid his exceptions Csesar counts as one, 
Besieger and besieged he. victor, fought 
Under a Gallic sun. 



For Vircinget'rex failed, but at the wall : 
He strove and failed gilded by Glory's rays 
So that true soldiership describes that Gaul 
In terms of honest praise. 



4X THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 

But there was not a Julius in the lines 
Round which our Chief the fatal leaguer drew, 
The noble Earl, though valiant, never shines 
'Mid War's majestic few. 



By hopes and fears in agonies long tossed — 
[Clinton hard fixed in method's rigid groove] 
The British Leader saw the game was lost ; — 
But, still, it had one move ! 



Could he attain yon spreading Gloucester shore 
Could he and liis cross York's majestic tide; 
He, then, might laugh to hear the cannon roar 
And far for safety ride. 



Bold was the plan ! and generous Light Horse Lee 
Gives it full measure of unstinted praise ; 
But Providence declared this should not lie 
In its own wondrous ways. 



THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 4!) 

Loud roared the storm ! The rattling thunders 

rang ! 
Against the blast his rowers could not row ! 
White waves like hoary-headed Homers sang 
Hexameters of woe ! 

Then came the time to end the mighty Play, 
To drop the curtain and to quench the lamps, 
And soon the story took itsjocund way 
Through all the Allied camps. 

"Measure for measure" then was righteous law, 
The cup of Lincoln bowed Corn wallis pressed, 
And as he drank the wondering Nations saw 
A sunrise — in the West ! 

Death fell upon the Royal cause that clay, 
The King stood like Swift's oak with blighted crest, 
Headpiece and Crown both cleft he drooped away : 
Hicjacet — tells the rest ! 



50 THE SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS. 

And patriots stood where traitors late were jeered, 
Transformed from rebels into freemen bold, 
What seemed Membrino's helmet now appeared 
A real casque of gold ! 

XIV. 

THE SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS. 

Next came the closing scene : but shall I paint 
The scarlet column, sullen, slow, and faint, 
Which marched, with "colors cased" to yonder field 
Where Britain threw down corselet, sword, and 

shield ? 
Shall I depict the anguish of the brave 
Who envied comrades sleeping in the grave ? 
Shall I exult o'er inoffensive dust 
Of valiant men whose swords have turned to rust ? 
Shall I, like Menelaus by the coast, 
O'er dead Ajaces make unmanly boast ? 
Shall I, in chains of an ignoble Verse, 



THE SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS. 5J 

Degrade dead Hectors, and their pangs rehearse ? — 
Kay ! such is not the mood this People feels, 
Their chariots drag no foemen by the heels ! 
Let Ajax slumber by the sounding sea 
From the fell passion of his madness free ! 
Let Hector's ashes unmolested sleep — 
But not to-day shall any Priam weep ! 

OUR .ANCIENT ALLIES. 

Superb in white and red, and white and gold, 

And white and violet, the French unfold 

Their blazoned banners on the Autumn air, 

While cymbols clash and brazen trumpets blare : 

Steeds fret and foam, and spurs with scabbards clank 

As far they form, in many a shining rank. 

Dux-Ponts is there, as hilt to sword blade true, 

And Guvion rises smiling on the view ; 

And the brave Swede, as yet untouched by Fate, 

Rides 'raid his comrades with a mien elate ; 

And Duportail — and scores of others glance 

Upon the scene and all arc worthy France ! 

And for those Frenchmen and their splendid bands, 



f>2 THE SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS. 

The very Centuries shall clap their hands, 
While at their head, as all their banners flow, 
And all their drums roll out, and trumpets blow, 
Rides first and foremost splendid Rochambeau ! 
And well he rides, worthy an Epic rhyme — 
Full well he rides in attitude sublime — 
Fair Freedom's Champion in the lists of Time. 

THE CONTINENTALS. 

In hunting shirts, or faded blue and buff, 

And many clad in simple, rustic stuff, 

Their ensigns torn but held by Freedom's hand, 

In long-drawn lines the Continentals stand. 
To them precision if not martial grace; 

Each heart triumphant but composed each face ; 

Well-taught in military arts by brave Steuben, 

With port of soldiers, majesty of men, 

All Fathers of their Country like a wall 

The} 7 stand at rest to see the curtain fall. 

Well-taught were they by one who learned War' 

trade 

From Fredrick whom not Ruin's self dismayed; — 



THE SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS. 53 

Well-taught by one who never lost the heat 
Caught on an anvil where all Europe beat ; — 
Beat in a storm of blows, with might and main, 
But on that Prussian anvil beat in vain ! 
And to the gallant race of Steuben's name 
That long has held close intercourse with Fame, 
This great Republic bows its loft crest, 
And folds his kinsmen to her ample breast : 
At fray, or festival, on march or halt, 
Von Steuben always far above the salt ! 

"the marquis." 

The Brave young Marquis, second but to one 
For whom he felt the reverence of a son, 
Rides at the head of his division proud — 
A ray of Glory painted on the cloud ! 
Mad Anthony is there, and Knox — but why 
Great names like battle flags attempt to fly ? 
Who sings of skies lit up by Jove and Mars 
Thinks net to chant a catalogue of stars ! 
I bow me low, and bowing low I pass 



54 THE SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS. 

Unnumbered heroes in unnumbered mass, 

While at their head in grave, and sober state, 

Rides one whom Time has found completely great 

Master of Fortune aud the match of Fate ! 

* * # * * * . * 

Then Tilghman mounted on these Plains of York 
Swift sped away as speeds the homing hawk, 
And soon 'twas his to wake that watchman's cry 
That woke all Nations and shall never die ! 

THE ANCIENT ENEMIES. 

Brave was the foeman ! well he held his ground ! 
But here defeat at kindred hands he found ! 
The shafts rained on him in a righteous cause 
( Jame from the quiver of Old England's laws ! 
He fought in vain; and on this spot went down 
The jus divinum, and the kingly crown. 
But for those scenes Time long has made, amends, 
The ancient enemies are present friends ; 
Two swords, in Massachusetts, rich in dust, 
And, bettor still, the peacefulness of rust, 



THE SURRENDER OP LORD CORNWALLIS. 55 

t 

Told the whole story in its double parts 
To one who lives in two great nations' hearts ; 
And late above Old England's roar and din 
Slow-tolling bells spoke sympathy of kin : 
Victoria's wreath blooms on the sleeping breast 
Of him just gone to his reward and rest, 
And firm and fast between two mighty Powers 
New treaties live in those undying flowers. 

THE SPLENDID THREE. 

Turned back my gaze, on Spain's romantic shore 
I see Gaul bending by the grave of Moore, 
And later, when the page of Fame I scan 
I see brave France at deadly Inkerman, 
While on red Balaklava's field I hear 
Gallia's applause swell Albion's ringing cheer. 
England and France, as Allies, side by side 
Fought on the Pielio's melancholy tide, 
And there, brave Tattnall, ere the fight was done, 
Stirred English hearts as far as shone the sun, 
Or tides and billows in their courses run. 



56 THE SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLD3. 

That day, 'mid the dark Pieho's slaughter 
He said : "Blood is thicker than water !" 
And your true man though "brayed in a mortar" 

At feast, or at fray 

Will still feel it and say 
As he said : "Blood is thicker than water !" 

And full homely is the saying but this story always 

starts 
An answer from ten thousand times ten thousand 

kindred hearts. 

Then let us pray that as the sun shines ever on the 

sea 
Fair Peace forevermore may smile upon the Splendid 

Three ! 

May happy France see purple grapes n-glow on all 

her hills, 
And England breast-deep in her corn laugh back the 

laugh of rills ! 



THE WAR HORSE DRAWS THE PLOUGH. 57 

May this fair land to which all roads lead as the 

roads of Rome 
Led to th' eternal city's gates still offer Man a home— 

A home of peace and plenty, and of freedom and of 

ease, 
With all before him where to choose between the 

shining seas ! 

May the war-cries of the Captains yield to happy 

reapers shouts, 
And the clover whiten bastions and the olive shade 

redoubts ! 

XV. 

THE WAR HORSE DRAWS THE PLOUGH. 

At last our Fathers saw the Treaty sealed, 
Victory unhelmed her broad, majestic brow, 
The Sword became a Sickle in the field, 
The war horse drew the plough. 



58 THE WAR HORSE DRAW THE PLOUGH. 

There is a time when men shape for their Land 
Its institutions 'mid some tempests' roar, 
Just as the waves that thunder on the strand 
Shape out and round the shore. 



Then comes a day when institutions turn 
And carve the men, or cast them into moulds 
One Era trembles while volcanoes burn, 
Another A?e beholds 



The hardened lava changed to hills and leas, 
With blooming- glebes and orchards intermixed, 
Vineyards which look abroad o'er purple seas, 
And deep foundations fixed. 



So, when fell Chaos like a baleful Fate 
What we had won seemed bent to snatch away 
Sound thinkers rose who fashioned out the State 
As potters fashion clay. 



HEROES AND STATESMEN. 59 

XVI. 

HEROES AND STATESMEN. 
Of their great names I may record but few : 
He who beholds the Ocean white with sails 
And copies each confuses all the view, 

He paints too much — and fails. 

His picture shows no high, emphatic light, 
Its shadows in full mass refuse to fall, 
And as its broken details meet the light 
Men turn it to the wall. 

Of those great names but few may pass my lips, 
For he who speaks of Salamis then sees 
Not men who there commanded Grecian ships — 
But grand Themistocles ! 

Vet some I mark, and there discreetly take x 
To grace my Verse through duty and design 
As one notes barks that leave the broadest wake 
Upon the stormy Brine. 



60 HEROES AND STATESMAN. 

These rise before me ; and there Mason stands 
The Constitution-maker firm and bold, 
Like Bernal Diaz, planting with kind hands 
Fair trees to blaze in gold. 



Amid the lofty group sedate I see, [stores, 

Great Franklin muse where Truth had locked her 
Holding within his steady hand the key 
That opened many doors. 



And Trumbull, strong as hammered steel of old, 
Stands boldly out in clear and high relief, — 
A blade unbending worth a hilt of gold, — 
He never failed his Chief ! 



Then Robert Morris glides into my Verse 
Turning the very stones at need to bread — 
Filling the young Republic's slender purse 
When Credit's self seemed dead. 



HEROES AND STATESMEN. 61 

Tylers I see — sprung from the sturdy Wat — 
A strong armed rebel of an ancient date, 
With Falkland-Carys come, to draw the lot 
Cast in the helm of Fate. 



And Marshall in his ermine white as snow, 
Wise, learned, and profound Fame loves to draw, 
His noble function on the Bench to show 
That Reason is the Law. 



His sword unbuckled and his brows unbent, 
The gallant Hamilton again appears, 
And in fair Freedom's mighty Parliament 
He marches with the Peers ! 



Henry is there beneath his civic crown ; 
He speaks in words that thunder as they flow, 
And as he speaks his thunder-tones bring down 
An avalanche below ! 



62 HEROES AND STATESMEN. 

Nor does John Adams in the picture lag, 
He was as bold, as resolute, and free, 
As is the eagle on a misty crag 
Above a stormy sea. 

And 'mid his fellows in those days of need, 
Impassioned Jefferson burns like a sun, [Creed 

The New World's Prophet of the New World's 
Prophet and Priest in one ! 

These two together stood in our great past, 
When Independence flamed across the land — 
< hi Independence day these two at last 
Departed hand in hand. 

And they are taken by a patriot's mind 
As kindred types of our great Saxon stock, 
And that same thinker hopes some day to find 
Both statues in one block. * 

*This fine idea is borrowed from one of the addresses of Mr. Winthrop, the 
Orator of the occasion. 



HEROES AND STATESMEN. 63 

But, here I number splendid names too fast, 
Heroes and Sages throng behind this group, 
And thick they come as came in Homer's past 
A Goddess and her troop ; — 



And as that troop, 'mid frays and fell alarms, 
Swept, all a-glittcr, on their mission bent, 
And bore from Vulcan the resplendent arms 
To great Achilles sent, 



So came the names that light my pious Song- 
Came bearing Union forged in high debates— 
A sun-illuminated Shield, and strong, 
To guard these mighty States. 



The Shield sent to the son of Pelius glowed 
With hammered wonders, all without a flaw ;- 
The Shield of Union in its splendor showed 
The Compromise of Law. 



64 PATER PATRIAE. 

And as the Epic lifts a form sublime 
For all the Ages on its plinth of gold, 
So does our Story, challenging all time, 
Its crowning Shape uphold ! 

XVII. 

PATER PATRIAE. 
Achilles came from Homer's Jove-like brain, 
Pavilioned 'mid his ships where Thetis trod ; 
But he whose image dominates this plain 
Came from the hand of God ? 

Yet, of his life, which shall all time adorn 
I dare not sing : to try the theme would be 
To drink as 'twere that Scandinavian Horn 
Whose tip was in the Sea. 

I bow my head and go upon my ways, 
Who tells that story can but gild the gold — 
Could I pile Alps on Apennines of praise 
The tale would not be told. 



PATER PATRIAE. 65 

Not his the blade which lyric fables say 
Cleft Pyrenees from ridge to nether bed, 
But his the sword which cleared the Sacred Way 
For Freedom's feet to tread. 



Not Caesar's genius nor Napoleon's skill 
Gave him proud mast'ry o'er the trembling earth ; 
But great in honesty, and sense, and will — 
He was the "man of worth." 



He knew not North, nor South,'nor West, nor East 
Childless himself Father of States he stood, 
Strong and sagacious as a Knight turned Priest, 
And vowed to deeds of s:ood. 



Compared with all Earth's heroes I may say 
He was, with even half his virtues hid, 
Greater in what his hand refrained than they, 
Were great in" what they did. 



66 THE FLAG OF THE REPUBLIC. 

And thus his image dominates all time, 
Uplifted like the everlasting dome 
Which rises in a miracle suhlime 
Above eternal Rome. 

On Rome's once blooming plain where'er we stray 
That dome majestic rises on the view, 
Its Cross a-glow with every wandering ray 
That shines along the Blue. 

So his vast image shadows all the lands, 
So holds forever Man's adoring eye, 
And o'er the Union which he left it stands 
Our Cross against the sky ! 

xvin. 

THE FLAG OF THE REPUBLIC- 

My harp soon ceases ; but I here allege 
Its strings are in my heart and tremble there : 
My Song's last strain shall be a claim and pledge- 
A claim, a pledge, a prayer ! 



THE FLAG OF THE REPUBLIC. 67 

I stand, as stood, in storied days of old, 
Vasco Balboa staring o'er bright seas 
When fair Pacific's tide of limpid gold 
Surged up against his knees. 



For haughty Spain, her banner in his hand. 
He claimed a New World, sea, and plain, and crag — 
I claim the Future's Ocean for this land 
And here I plant her flag ! 



Float out, oh flag from Freedom's burnished .lance ! 
Float out, oh flag, in Red, and White, and Blue ! 
The Union's colors and the hues of France 
Commingled on the view ! 



Float out, oh flag, and all thy splendors wake 
Float out, oh flag, above our Hero's bed ! 
Float "out, oh flag, and let thy blazon take 
New glories from the dead ! 



68 THE FLAG OF THE REPUBLIC. 

Float out, oh flag, o'er Freedom's noblest types- ! 
Float out, oh flag, all free of blot or stain ! 
Float out, oh flag, the "Roses" in thy stripes 
Forever blent again ! 



Float out, oh flag, and float in every clime ! 
Float out, oh flag, and blaze on every- sea ! 
Float out, oh flag, and float as long as Time 
And Space themselves shall be ! 



Float out, oh flag, o'er Freedom's onward march ! 
Float out, oh flag, in Freedom's starry sheen ! 
Float out, oh flag, above the Union's arch 
"Where "Washington is seen ! 



Float out, oh flag, above a smiling Land ! 
Float out, oh flag, above a peaceful sod ! 
Float out, oh flag, thy staff within the hand 
Beneficent of God ! 



THE SOUTH IN THE UNION. 69 

XIX. 

THE SOUTH IN THE UNION. 
An ancient Chronicle has told 
That, in the famous clays of old, 

In Antioch under ground 

The self-same lance was found — 

Unbitten by corrosive rust — 
The lance the Roman soldier thrust 

In Christ's bare side upon the Tree ; 

And that it brought 

A mighty spell 

To those who fought 

The Infidel 

And mighty victory. 

And so this day 
To you I say — 
Speaking for millions of true Southern men — 
In words that have no undertow — 
I say, and say agen : 
Come weal, or woe, 
Should this Republic ever fight, 



70 THE SOUTH IN THE UNION. 

By land, or sea, 
For present law, or ancient right 

The South will be 

As was that lance, 

Albeit not found 

Hid under ground 
But in the forefront of the first advance ! 

'Twill fly a pennon fair 

As ever kissed the air, 

On it, for every glance, 

Shall blaze majestic France 

Blent with our Hero's name 

In everlasting flame, 

And written, fair in gold, 

This legend on its fold : 

Gives us back the ties of Yorktown ! 

Perish all the modern bates ! 
Let us stand together, brothers, 

In defiance of the Fates ; 

FOR THE SAFETY OF THE UNION 

IS THE SAFETY OF THE STATES ! 



A WORD OF EXPLANATION. 71 



A WORD OF EXPLANATION. 



It was the Author's intention to have added a set 
of elaborate notes to the text of his "Centennial 
Ode ;" but these unfortunately have been misplaced. 
Without the necessary leisure for their restoration, 
he decided to fill up this volume, to the modest size, 
originally intended, by the addition of the Poems 
which follow. 

This is the result of necessity, not design, and no 
one can lament it more than the writer, who (by 
the fact above referred to) has had his entire scheme 
of publication seriously disconcerted. 

Norfolk, December 10, 1882. 



nn 



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10 



THE CHARGE AT BALAKLAYA. 



Nolan halted where the squadrons, 

Stood impatient of delay, 
Out he drew his brief dispatches, 
Which their leader quickly snatches, 
At a glance their meaning catches ; 

They are ordered to the fray'! 

All that morning they had waited — 
As their frowning faces showed, 

Horses stamping, riders fretting, 

And their teeth together setting ; 

Not a single sword-blade wetting 
As the battle ebbed and flowed. 

Now the fevered spell is broken, 
Every man feels twice as large, 
Every heart is fierce ly leaping, 
As a lion roused from sleeping, 
For they know they will be sweeping 
In a moment to the charge. 



76 THE CHARGE AT BALAKLAVA. 

Brightly gleam six hundred sabres, 
And the brazen trumpets ring ; 

Steeds are gathered, spurs are driven. 

And the heavens widely riven 

With a mad shout upward given, 
Scaring vultures on the wing. 

Stern its meaning ; was not Gallia 
Looking down on Albion's sons ? 
In each mind this thought implanted, 
Undismayed and all undaunted, 
By the battle-fiends enchanted, 
They ride down upon the guns. 



Onward ! On ! the chargers trample ; 

Quicker falls each iron heel ! 
And the headlong pace grows faster ; 
Noble steed and noble master, 
Rushing on to red disaster, 

Where the heavy cannons peal. 



THE CHARGE AT BALAKLAVA. 77 

In the van rides Captain Nolan ; 

Soldier stout he was and brave ! 
And his shining sabre flashes, 
As upon the foe he dashes : , 
God ! his face turns white as ashes, 

He has ridden to his grrave ! 



Down he fell, prone from his saddle, 
Without motion, without breath, 
Never more a trump to waken — 
He the very first one taken, 
From the bough so sorely shaken, 
In the vintage-time of Death. 



In a moment, in a twinkling, 

He was gathered to his rest ; 
In the time for which he'd waited — 
With his gallant heart elated — 
Down went Nolan, decorated 

With a death wound on his breast. 



78 THE CHARGE AT BALAKLAVA. 

Comrades still are onward charging, 

He is lying on the sod : 
Onward still their steeds are rushing 
Where the shot and shell are crushing ; 
From his corpse the blood is gushing, 

And his soul is with his God. 



As they spur on, what strange visions 
Flit across each rider's brain ! 

Thoughts of maiden fair, of mothers, 

Friends and sisters, wives and brothers, 

Blent with images of others, 

Whom they ne'er shall see again. 



Onward still the squadrons thunder — 

Knightly hearts were their's and brave, 
Men and horses without number 
All the furrowed ground encumber — 
Falling fast to their last slumber — 
Bloody slumber ! bloody grave ! 



THE CHARGE AT BALAKLAVA. 79 

Of that charge at Balaklava — 

In its chivalry sublime — 
Vivid, grand, historic pages 
Shall descend to future ages ; 
Poets, painters, hoary sages 

Shall record it for all time ; 



Telling how those English horsemen 
Rode the Russian gunners down ; 

How with ranks all torn and shattered ; 

How with helmets hacked and battered ; 

How with sword arms blood-bespattered 
They won honor and renown. 



'Twas "not war," but it was splendid 

As a dream of old romance ; 
Thinking which their Gallic neighbors 
Thrilled to watch them at their labors, 
Hewing red graves with their sabres 
In that wonderful advance. 



80 THE CHARGE AT BALAKLAVA. 

Down went many a gallant soldier ; 

Down went many a stout dragoon ; 
Lying grim, and stark, and gory, 
On the crimson field of glory, 
Leaving us a noble story 

And their white-cliffed home a boon. 



Full of hopes and aspirations 

Were their hearts at dawn of day ; 
Now, with forms all rent and broken, 
Bearing each some frightful token 
Of a scene ne'er to be spoken, 
In their silent sleep they lay. 



Here a noble charger stiffens, 

There his rider grasps the hilt 
Of his sabre lying bloody 
By his side, upon the muddy, 
Trampled ground, which darkly ruddy 
Shows the blood that he has spilt. 



THE CHARGE AT BALAKLAVA. 81 

And to-night the moon shall shudder 

As she looks down on the moor, 
Where the dead of hostile races 
Slumber, slaughtered in their places ; 
All their rigid ghastly faces 

Spattered hideously with £ore. 



And the sleepers ! ah, the sleepers 
Make a Westminster that day ; 

'Mid the seething battle's lava ! 

And each man who fell shall have a 

Pro ad inscription — Balaklava, 
Which shall never fade away. 



11 



MEMORISE SACRUM. 



ALEXANDER GALT, THE SCULPTOR 



Alas ! he's cold ! 
Cold as the marble which his fingers wrought — 
Cold, but not dead ; for each embodied thought 
Of his, which he from the Ideal brought 

To live in stone, 
Assures him immortality of fame. 

Gait is not dead ! 

Only too soon 

We saw him climb 
Up to his pedestal, where equal Time 
And coming generations, in the noon 
Of his full reputation, yet shall stand 
To pay just homage to his noble name. 

Our Poet of the Quarries only sleeps, 



MEMORISE SACRUM. 83 

He cleft his pathway up the future's steeps, 
And now rests from his labors. 
Hence 'tis I say ; 
For him there is no death, 
Only the stopping of the pulse and breath — 
But simple breath is not the all in all ; 
Man hath it but in common with the brutes — 
Life is in action, and in brave pursuits ! 
By what we dream, and, having dreamt, dare do, 
We hold our places in the world's large view, 
And still have part in the affairs of men 
When the long sleep is on us. 

He dreamt and made his dreams perpetual things 
Fit for the rugged cells of penitential saints, 
Or sumptuous halls of Kings, 
And showed himself a Poet in the Art : 
He chiselled Lyrics with a touch so fine, 
With such a tender beauty of their own, 
That rarest songs broke out from every line 
And Verse was audible in voiceless stone ! 



84 MEMORISE SACRUM. 

His Psyche,* soft in beaut}?- and in grace, 
"Waits for her lover in the Western breeze, 
And a swift smile irradiates her face, 
As though she heard him whisper in the trees. 

His passion-stricken Sappho seems alive — 
Before her none can ever feel alone, 
For on her face emotions so do strive 
That we forget she is but pallid stone : — 
And all her tragedy of love and woe 
Is told us in the chilly marble's snow.f 

Bacchante, with her vine-crowned hair, 
Leaps to the cymbal-measured dance 
With such a passion in her air — 
Upon her brow — upon her lips — 
As thrills you to the finger-tips, 
Aud fascinates your glance. 

*His Psyche and the Bacchante are, we believe in the possession of the heirs 
of the late Historian and Antiquary, the Hon. Hugh Blair Grigsby, late Chan- 
cellor of William and Mary College. 

tThis beautiful work ornaments the mansion of the Hon. John B. White- 
head, of Norfolk, Va. 



MEMORISE SACRUM. 85 

These are, as 'twere, three of his Songs in stone — 
The first full of the tenderness of love, 
Speaking of moon-rise, and the low wind's call : 
The second of love's tragedy and fall ; 
The third of shrill, mad laughter, and the tone 
Of festal music, on whose rise and fall 
Swift-footed dancers follow. 

Nobler than these sweet lyric dreams, 
Dreamt out beside Italia's streams, 
He'd worked some Epic studies out, in part — 
To leave them incomplete his chiefest pain 
When the low pulses of his failing heart 

Admonished him of death. 
Aye ! he had soared upon a lofty wing, 
Wet with the purple and encrimsoned rain 
Of dreams, whose clouds had floated o'er his brain 

Until it ached with glories. 

If you would see his Epic studies, go — 
Go with the student from his dim arcade — 



86 MEM0RL2E SACRUM. 

Halt where the Statesman standeth in the hall, 
And mark how careless voices hush and fall, 
And all light talk to sudden pause is brought 
In presence of the noble type of thought — 
Embodied Independence! which he wrought 
From stone of far Carrara. 

View his Columbus : Hero grand and meek, 
Scarred 'mid the battle's Jong-protracted brnnt- 
Palos and Salvador stamped on his front, 
With not a line about it poor or weak — 
A second Atlas, bearing on his brow 
A New World, just discovered. 

Go see Virginia's wise, majestic face 
With some faint shadow of her coming woe 
Writ on the broad, expansive, virgin snow 
Ofjier imperial forehead, just as though 
Some disembodied Prophet-hand of eld 
The Sculptor's chisel in its touch had held, 

JHls statue of Tnonias Jefferson, at the University of Virginia. 



MEMORISE SACRUM. 87 

Foreshadowing her coming crown of thorns — 
Her crown and her great glory !§ 

These of the many ; hut they are enough — 
Enough to show that I have rightly said 
The marble's snow bids back from him decay, 
He sleepeth long; but sleeps not with the dead 
Who die, and are forgotten ere the clay 
Heaped over them hath hardened in the sun. 

Thus much of Gait the Artist : 

Of the man 
Fain would I speak, but in sad sooth lean 
xTe'er find the words wherein to tell 
How he was loved, or yet how well 

He did deserve it. 
All things of beauty were to him delight — 
The sunset's clouds — the turret rent apart — 
The stars which glitter in the noon of night — 
Spoke in one voice unto his mind and heart, 

§This noble bust, still in the clay, perished, I believe, at the evacuation of 
Richmond. 



88 MEMOKLE SACRUM. 

His love of Nature made his love of Art, 

And had his span 

Ot life been longer 
He had surely done|| 
Such noble things that he 
Like to a soaring eagle would have been 
At last — lost in the sun ! 

II There are in Norfolk three beautiful works from the hand of the sculptor, 
who threw down his chisel and left his Florentine studio to hurry to Virginia 
when the late war broke out. Two of these, a Flora and a figure of Hope, 
both beautiful, are in the possession of his brother, William R. Gait, and the 
third, a Sappho, as already stated, ornaments the mansion of Mr. Whitehead. 



THE POET-PRIEST RYAN. <S!» 



TO THE POET-PEIEST B.YAN 



The Laureate of the South. 



IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF A COPY OF HIS POEMS. 



Himself Iread beneath the words he writes. * * * * 
/ may come back and sing again. — Ryan. 



This Bard's to me a whole-souled man 

In honesty and might, 
For when he sees Wrong in the van 

He leaps like any Knight 
To horse, and charging on the wrong 
Smites it with the great sword of Sons:. 



II. 



Beneath the cassock of the Priest 

There throbs another heart — 
12 



90 THE POET-PRIEST RYAN. 

Another — but 'tis not the least — . 

Which in his Lays takes part, 
So that 'mid clash of Swords and Spears 
There is no lack of Pity's tears. 



III. 

This other heart is brave and soft, 
As such hearts always are, 

And plumes itself, a bird aloft, 
When Morning's gates unbar — 

Till high it soars above the sod 

Bathed in the very light of God. 



IV. 

Woman and Soldier, Priest and Man, 

I find within these Lays, 
And the closer still th' Verse I scan 

The more I see to praise : 
Some of these Lyrics shower down 
The slories of the Cross and Crown. 



THE POET-PRIEST RYAN. 91 



V. 



To thee, oh Bard ! my head I bow, 

As I'd not to a King, 
And my last world, writ here and now, 

Ts not a little thing ; 
Recall the promise of thy strain — 
Thou art to "come and sins: a^ain !" 



<^—. .~@^ 



xfV 



02 ' THREE NAMES. 



THREE NAMES. 



Virginia in her proud, Colonial days, 
Boasts three great names which full of glory shine 
Two glitter like the burnished heads of spears, 
The third in tender light is half divine, 
Turning that page ray eager fancy hears 
Trumpets and drums, and fleet on fleet appears ! 



Those names are graven deep and broad, to last 
And outlast Ages : while recording Time' 
Hands down their story, worth an Epic rhyme 
To light her future by her splendid past : 
One planned the Saxon's Empire o'er these lands,- 
The other planted it with valiant hands — 
The third, with Mercy's soft, celestial beams, 
Lights fair romances, histories, and dreams. 



SIR WALTER RALEIUH. 93 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 

Whether in velvet white, slashed, and be-pearled, 
And rich in knots of clustering gems a-glow : 
Or, in his rusted armor, he unfurled 
St. George's Cross by Oronoko's flow ; 
He was a man to note right well as one 
Who shot his arrows straightway at the sun. 



Dark was his hair, his beard all crisp and curled, 
And narrow-lidded were his piercing eyes, 
Anli ungered in their glances for a World 
That he might win by daring enterprise, — 
Explorer, soldier, scholar, poet, he 
Not only wrote but acted historie ! — 
And that great Captain, of our Saxon stock, 
Took his last slumber on the ghastly block ! 



94 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 



CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 

A yeoman born, with patrimony small, 
He held the World at large as his estate ; 
Found fit advices in the bugle's call 
And took his part in iron-tongued debate 
Where'er one sword another sword-blade notched 
Ne'er was he slain, though often he was scotched, 
Now down, now up, but always fronting Fate ! 



At last a figure resolute, and grand 
In arms he leaped upon Virginia's strand ; 
Fitted in many Schools his course to steer 
He knew the ax, the musketoon, and brand, 
How to obey, and better to command ; 
First of his line he stood — a planted spear 
The New World saw the English Pioneer ! 



♦POCAHONTAS. 95 



POCAHONTAS. 

Her story, sure, was fashioned out above, 

Ere 't was enacted on the scene below ! 

For 't was a very miracle of love 

When from the savage hawk's nest came the dove 

With wings of peace to stay the ordered blow — 

The hawk's plumes bloody, but the dove's as snow ! 



And here my heart oppressed by pleasant tears 
Yields to a young girl's half angelic spell — 
Yes, for that maiden like a Saint appears : 
She needs no fresco, stone, nor shrine to tell 
Her story to the people of this Land — 
Saint of the Wilderness, enthroned amid 
The wooded Minster where the Paeran hid ! 



96 SUNSET ON HAMPTON ROADS. 



Sunset on Hampton Roads. 



Behind me purplish lines marked out the town, 
Before me stretched the noble Roadstead's tide : 
And there I saw the Evening sun go down 
Casting a parting glory far and wide — 
A King who for the Cowl puts off his Crown — 
So went the sun ; and left a wealth of light 
Ere hidden by the cloister-gates of Night. 



Beholding this my soul was stilled in prayer, 

I understood how all men, save the blind, 

Might find Religion in a scene so fair 

And formulate a Creed within the mind ; — 

See Prophesies in clouds; Fates in the air; 

The skies flamed red : the murm'ring waves were 

hushed — 
"The conscious water saw its God and blushed." 



A KING'S GRATITUDE. 97 



A King's Gratitude. 



Plain men have fitful moods and so have Kings, 
For Kings are only men, and often made 
Of clay as common as ere stained a spade. 
But when the great are moody, then, the strings 
Of gilded harps are smitten, and their strains 
Are soft and soothing as the Summer rains. 



And Saul was taken by an evil mood, 
He felt within himself his spirit faint : 
In vain he tossed upon his couch and wooed 
Refreshing slumbers. Sleep knows no constraint ! 
Then David came : his physic and advice 
All in a harp, aud cleared the mind of Saul — 
And Saul thereafter launched hisjavlin twice 
To nail the harper to the palace wall ! 



13 



98 THE TWINSES. 



The "Twinses." 



Two little children toddled up to me, 
Their faces fair as faces well could be, 
Roses and snow, but pale the roses were 
Like flowers fainting for the lack of air. 
Sad was the tender study which I gave 
The winning creatures, both so sweet and grave, 
Two beautiful young Saxons, scarce knee high ! 
As like as peas ! Two Liiiputian men ! 
Immortal ere they knew it by the pen 
Which waketh laughter or bedews the eye. 
God bless you, little people ! May His hand 
Hold you within its hollow all your days ! 
Smooth all the rugged places, and your ways 
Make long and pleasant in a fruitful land ! 



SUNSET ON THE CHESAPEAKE. 99 



Sunset on the Chesapeake. 



The setting sun shines on the heaving Bay, 
The spreading waters glow beneath, his rays, 
And in the sky the Evening makes display 
Of many tints in many wondrous ways. 
Like banners blazoned with Angelic signs, 
Enriched with purple, red, and blue, and gold, 
The clouds are flung in many brave designs 
Whose hues and figures never may be told : — 
Rich miracles of light on "woven air," 
At once delight of artists and — despair ! 
For Nature when she thus adorns the skies 
With her rare beauty every Art defies, 
And as hues burn, and glow, and change, and pale 
The pencil falters and the numbers fail. 



100 AN OLD STORY. 



AN OLD STORY. 



Told in Three Sonnets. 



I. 

THE THEATRE. 
The theatre is all a-blaze to-nigbt 
With radiant beauty, flushed, and rich, and warm, 
The music breathes in passion of delight, 
Now dies in dreams, now wakes in sudden storm ; 
And as it floats within the splendid hall 
It seems to wake the frescoes on the wall. 
Delicious perfumes float upon the air ; 
Sure, buds have burst beneath this music rain ! 
South winds have kissed these maiden's lips and hair, 
And stolen odors to dispense again ! 
Low, rippling murmurs break around the ring ; 
Ladies are busy ; dandies bow or stare ; 
A thousand fans like gay birds on the wing, 
Make a sharp rustle on the scented air. 



THE ACTOR ON THE BOARDS. 101 



II. 



THE ACTOR ON THE BOARDS. 

The curtain rises at the piercing call ; 

Eyes outshine jewels ; viols cease and drums : 

I bend me forward in my scarlet stall 

For now the famous comic actor comes : 

The music ceases, all are hushed, all turn 

In smiling expectation, then grow stern, 

And hard and critical. Lo ! he doth miss 

And stumble in his part ! A freezing pause 

.No smile, no laugh, no thunder of applause — 

Shrill in the pit there sounds a critic's hiss : 

'T is the storm-signal, all the house is wild 

With sibelant rebuke — low bows his head, 

Choking he speaks: "Pardon, oh friends — my child,' 

"My little child this very night lies dead." 



102 THE ACTOR'S HOME. 



III. 



THE ACTOR S HOME. 

Upon the walls there are great spots of mould ; 
The yellow plaster from each rafter breaks ; 
The chimney grim, and cavernous, and old, 
Shows a. poor fire which fitfully awakes 
In a pale flame that lights an humble bier 
Standing sheet-covered in the dreary room ; 
And a poor woman sits with Grief and Care, 
Her only fellows in the chilly gloom. — 
Beneath that sheet a childish figure lies 
Sun on the hair, but darkness in the eyes, 
Here hushed and awful rests the shrouded dead 
Yonder the theatre its gala keeps, 
Where the poor actor tried to win the bread 
Of one who watches while the other — sleeps. 



OUR ANGLO-SAXON TONGUE. 103 



Our Anglo-Saxon Tongue. 



Good is the Saxon speech ! clear, short, and strong 
Its clean cut words, fit both for prayer and song ; 
Good is this tongue for all the needs of life ; 
Good for sweet words with friend, or child, or wife — 
Seax — short sword — and like a sword its sway 
Hews out a path 'mid all the forms of speech, 
For in itself it hath the power to teach 
Itself, while many tongues slow fade away. 



"lis good for laws ; for vows of youth and maid ; 
Good for the preacher ; or shrewd folk in trade ; 
Good for sea-calls when loud the rush of spray ; 
Good for war-cries, where men meet hilt to hilt, 
And man's best blood like new-trod wine is spilt- 
Good for all times, and good for what thou wilt ! 



104 DREAMERS. 



Dreamers. 



Fools laugh at dreamers, and the dreamers smile 
In answer, if they any answer make : 
They know that Saxon Alfred could not bake 
The oaten cakes, but that he snatched his Isle 
Back from the fierce and bloody-handed Dane. 



And so, they leave the plodders to their gains — 
Quit money-changing for the student's lamp, 
And tune the harp to gain thereby some camp, 
Where what they learn is worth a kingdom's crown ; 
They fashion bows and arrows to bring down 
The mighty truths which sail the upper air ; 
To them the facts which make the fools despair 
Become familiar, and a thousand things 
Tell them the secrets they refuse to Kings. 



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